A Scent, A Memory, A Far Distant Mouse
by lcewind
Summary: Limburger takes his usual schemes to dig up Chicago one step further. Can the mice put a stop to him when an old friend becomes caught in the midst? Modo/other
1. Chapter 1

Yeah, I don't own these adorable furballs. Rade, however, is my original character and does belong to me. Mature themes in this chapter and possibly later in the story.

Summary: Limburger takes his usual schemes to dig up Chicago one step further. Can the mice put a stop to him when an old friend becomes caught in the midst? Modo/other

Story by Icewind

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><p><strong>A Scent, A Memory, A Far Distant...Mouse<strong>

_Part One_

Modo swallowed hard, the touch of her palm caressed his cheek and his heavy eyes fell shut. The brighter of the two moons on Mars, Phobos, lit the dark interior of the room in a faint gleam. Delicate fingers trailed over the edge of his ear, toying with the small hoop earrings that hung there, and he opened both eyes again to meet her gaze. There was a tinge of red on her cheeks beneath the black fur and carmine eyes held his captive. The emotion in her expression made his chest clench. "Rade..."

Slender arms wrapped around his neck, running soft fingers through his fur, and he tilted his head to kiss her. It deepened in moments, spreading warmth through them both in blissful waves. On the couch their bodies swayed in the darkness, her soft sighs enticing his back to arch against the sofa. Strong, protective hands slipped down the length of her spine and the tenderness of his touch was as warm as the sun. Modo moved kisses down her neck as she began to tremble in his arms and he coiled his tail around hers when he felt her crest to completion.

"Easy there, darlin'," he murmured, his voice deep as he nipped her throat lovingly. In the dim moonlight from the open window he watched through hooded eyes as she tossed her head back and lost herself to welcoming bliss. He rode through it, a groan drifting from him with the need to join her. And as glassy eyes locked on one another he knew he wouldn't be able to let her go. When she finally calmed and sank into his arms, he drew in a shuddering breath to cool his composure. There was an ache that ran deep and hot within him and he closed his eyes, chest heaving softly with his pants.

"Stay with me." The black mouse let her forehead touch his own. She already knew the answer but it was the only thought her mind could process for the moment. Powerful arms held her closely and her long black hair, much darker than her fur, cascaded around them like a sheet of velvet midnight. Modo nudged the patch of long silver-white strands in the front with his nose before burying his face in the curve of her neck.

"Nothin' I want more," he husked, his breaths stirring bits of her fur. The ache grew hotter, deeper, and a quiver ran down his spine. At this point it was getting even more difficult to think clearly. A hand came up to stroke the back of his head and he could sense his control slipping away. "But the war has gotten way outta hand. For now it's safer off-world with the other civilians—"

"Modo..." Rade gave a sigh, not having the heart to fight him on the issue at the moment. She began to rock on him again and his words died on his breath. The grey mouse shuddered, feeling heat stir in his belly with the slow sensual movement, and she heard his soft growl as he began to move along with her pace.

"Yeah, yeah...we need our best mamajammers to take down those rotten stink fish," she said, her voice light-hearted but wistful. "I know you need to stay on Mars. But it won't stop me from missing you." Modo shifted his head to look at her and she cupped his face in her hands. "I'll miss you so much," she whispered tenderly, kissing the tip of his nose with an affectionate peck.

Suddenly, he couldn't think anymore. That simple, sweet gesture sent fire roaring through his blood. Pleasure tingled all over like a whisper of spider webs and his eyes became so heavy he could barely keep them open. _Oh mama_, he thought with a clench of his jaw. The intimacy of their position with her face against his, kisses brushing over his closed eyelids, soft hands running over his upper back and the subtle rock of her body on him, made him quiver and crest to a strenuous release. A black tail stroked his own encouragingly as the ecstasy slammed into him and his low rumble vibrated in the dark. From the window the fading moonlight seemed to pull him deeper into an endless abyss.

When he came back to himself he became aware of deft fingers stroking the back of his neck soothingly and the world went still, like all the hell that'd been chasing him faded in a moment of peace. Reluctantly, she pulled back to look at him, fingers brushing over the fur on both his arms, and she gave him a wry smile.

"We're counting on you, handsome," she said, knowing the freedom fighters would pull through. "Save our tails."

Modo gave a genuine smile, one that quickly grew impish as he stood up and carried the woman in his arms to a private room. His grin broadened even more at the sound of her playful squeals just as he kicked the door shut behind them.

"Modo? Yo, big fella!"

"Hmh?" The grey-furred mouse suppressed a yawn with the back of his metal hand. "Sorry, did I miss somethin'?"

"Yeah, it's your move." Throttle gave an easy smile, his voice low and smooth as he glanced at Vinnie. "Seems like the Vin-man here miscalled a bluff."

"Yeah, whatever. There ain't anyone in the universe who can read _that_ poker face." Vinnie downed the last of his root beer with a belch, crushed the can, and tossed it into a corner of the room. "It's downright scary, bro! And even I ain't afraid to admit it."

The tan-furred mouse eyed the growing pile in the corner with a frown. Eight empty cans were already sprawled there in a mess. "Man, this ain't a garbage dump, Vincent," he groused. "Pick up after yourself, would ya?"

Modo rolled his eye and looked down at his cards. It was a slow afternoon and the four of them were lounged about in the scoreboard on the floor in front of an old beaten-up television. The game was seven-card stud and he had absolutely nothing in his hand. He yawned again, stretched out across the floor and crossed his ankles, his upper back leaning heavily against his bike.

The large mouse realized he must've passed out earlier from boredom. Lil' Hoss had been supporting his dead weight the entire time and he reached back to give her an appreciative pat. A quick glance to the wall clock revealed he'd been snoozing for about ten minutes. During that time he was certain Vinnie had been analysing their tanned leader, trying to crack his legendary poker face to no avail. The poor kid never stood a chance. Throttle was indecipherable in poker. His expression implied nothing, gave nothing away. His voice smooth and cool. Nonchalant. Modo grinned; it was a good thing they were playing for nothing more than chilly dogs.

"Poker, huh?" Charley smiled and gestured toward the stack of hot dogs she prepared earlier. "You guys sure use some interesting stakes."

"Care to up the ante, sweetheart?" Vinnie leered, leaning in closer until their noses almost touched. "It would definitely make the game more interesting."

Charley was less than impressed. She shoved her hand in his face and he stumbled backward onto the ground. "Puh-lease. Get your mind out of the gutter, fuzz-face."

The white mouse propped himself up on his elbows and stared indignantly at the amused expressions on his bros.

"You heard the lady," Modo chortled with a teasing grin. "Play nice."

"Oh c'mon," Vinnie sat up and shot his comrade a taunting look. "Like you're one to talk! Mr. Chivalry my tail! You picked a dandy time to dream about Rade—"

"Say _what_?" Modo stared at the white mouse in shock and could feel his face heat up in embarrassment. It was true; he had been dreaming of a memory. A very fond memory he held from back on Mars but still... "How on earth did you...?"

"You said her name in your sleep, big guy." Throttle dropped his shades down on his nose and gave Modo an odd look above the rim of his specs. The larger mouse sat up with a frown, wondering what else he may have uttered in his sleep.

Charley stared at them all with a bemused expression. "Who's Rade?"

Vinnie snickered and pointed a thumb toward his grey companion. "The big guy's one and only."

"Yeah, that sounds about right," Throttle chimed in with a hint of a smile. "Those two were practically inseparable back on Mars."

Modo shrugged. "At least until the war turned for the worst," he murmured despondently. Another look at his crummy cards brought a frown to his face. "I fold."

"Call 'em." Throttle tossed his cards face up on the ground, displaying an ace-high straight.

Vinnie cast aside his losing hand with a pout. "Aw man! At this rate he's gonna get all the chilly dogs!"

"You snooze, you lose, Vincenzo." The tanned mouse grabbed three of their favourite delicacy from the stack and took a bite out of one with a big grin. "Another round?"

"Um, no. I'd rather not starve."

"What about you, Modo?"

Silence. The three of them turned to look at the tall mouse who seemed to be lost in thought. Charley gently cleared her throat and the noise brought him back to reality.

"Oh, sorry guys. I didn't mean..." Modo sighed and grabbed a chilly dog from the stack. "It's just...she was a mean card player. I guess the game must've stirred up some old memories."

"Modo..." Charley began sympathetically, and then faltered. Given that she was unfamiliar with the history she didn't really know what to say. She glanced up at the other two mice.

"Hey, don't sweat it," Vinnie said confidently, flexing his biceps. "Nothing can keep her away for too much longer. Women flock to the Biker Mice like magnet on metal! _Especially_ to yours truly."

"Oh mama." Modo rolled his eye, almost thankful when Throttle took the liberty to slap the walking ego upside the head. Vinnie glared daggers at the tanned mouse.

"Ouch! Son of a—!"

"Mind if I ask what happened?" Charley interjected. "I'm sure it'll work out once you guys return home."

"Thanks, Charley-ma'am." Modo finished his chilly dog in a few bites. "But she ain't on Mars. When the war got heavy a group of Martians organized safe passage for civilians to Olympus Rock."

"Where?"

"It's an asteroid colonized by refugees from around the galaxy," Throttle replied. "Those rotten fish-faces tore up a lot of planets before they dug up Mars. Over time the asteroid became a sanctuary for those who lost their home world or aliens trying to rebuild their race." The leader sighed and pushed his shades up on his nose. "But transferring mice over there in the middle of the war was tricky. We were only able to move a few thousand...which didn't even put a dent in the population of survivors."

Charley took in the information as she glanced at Modo. "So, you know where she is?"

The grey mouse frowned and shook his head. "Well, not exactly. Rade is a racer. She's been space racing for as long as I can remember. If she was off-world she never could stay in one place for very long." Modo gave a snort and rubbed the back of his head. "She could be anywhere. And if I know my girl, even though she ain't military or part of the resistance, she's probably doing what she can in her own way to help Mars."

Charley smiled. "Sounds like she should've been a freedom fighter. Hopefully she hasn't gotten into too much trouble out there."

At that moment the sound of an explosion resonated out in the city. Startled, all four of them got up and ran toward one of the open number panels in the scoreboard. Looking out the makeshift window they noticed a large cloud of black smoke coming from the south end of town.

"It's Limburger's tower," Charley murmured, peering through a pair of binoculars. "There's smoke coming from one of the lower level floors."

Throttle chuckled softly. "Looks like the big cheese finally made a move. It's been way too quiet for the last couple of weeks."

"Yeah. And whatever he's up to can't be good," Modo added. "It practically reeks from here."

"What'd ya say, bros? Should we go pay the big stink-fish a visit? See what he's up to?" Vinnie slammed a fist into his other hand. "I'm just inchin' for some action around here!"

"Wouldn't hurt to investigate," Throttle agreed. "There hasn't been any activity at Limburger Tower in awhile. Not a single goon in the city. Nothin'." The tanned mouse put a hand on his chin in thought. "I have a bad feeling about what this could mean. Let's ride, bros."

"Aa-ha-ha-AOOW! Now that's what I'm talkin' about!" Vinnie whistled for his red racer and all three bikes revived and charged toward the open panel.

"Hold the fort, Charley-ma'am!" Modo shouted as he hopped onto his moving bike and soared out of the scoreboard followed by his two bros.

"What the—!" Charley put her hands on her hips as she stared out the makeshift window after the mice. "Dammit, I'm getting sick of them always leaving me behind!"

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><p><em>Meanwhile, in the lower level cargo hold inside Limburger Tower...<em>

"KARBUNKLE! What are you DOING you dilatory dolt!" The fat Plutarkian pounded his fist in the doctor's latest invention. "That ship is accelerating toward us at an alarming speed. I need it, or more importantly, I need what is on it in one piece!" Limburger grabbed hold of the flustered doctor and shouted in his face. "Listen to me you snivelling sycophant! It is imperative that you _slow it down_! RIGHT NOW!"

Karbunkle coughed and reeled from the Plutarkian's foul-smelling breath. "I'm _trying,_ your Overripe Cheesiness!" The deranged scientist frantically pushed a sequence of buttons and levers on his newest invention, The Scrambler Ray, an impressive piece of machinery capable of locking onto miniature spacecraft in orbit and dragging them to Earth like a giant magnet. "Whoever is on that ship has used the energy pulse from the scrambler as feedback to hack into the machine! I have no control over the rate of its acceleration!"

"WHAT!" Limburger glanced out the large floor-to-ceiling glass window to the speeding spacecraft quickly approaching his newly rebuilt skyscraper. The fat fish took a deep, calming breath and turned toward his underling. "My dear degenerate doctor," he began smoothly. "Allow me to make this abundantly clear. Neither one of us is leaving this wretched cargo hold until I am holding the infamous pillar technology in my hands. If you do not slow down that miserable Martian space-racer not only will my newly rebuilt tower suffer damages or possibly go up in flames, _again_, but the formidable instrument in which I seek will go up in smoke along with it. Hence, obstructing my latest plans for Chicago and eventual goal for power within the Plutarkian council."

"B-B-But—!" Karbunkle stammered and pointed out the window in dread.

"No BUTS! Too much is at stake, doctor. DO NOT FAIL ME!"

By the time Limburger finished his tirade and turned around the miniature spacecraft crashed through the glass window and surrounding wall of the cargo hold. He and the doctor barely had time to utter a scream before an explosion ripped through the oversized room and it began to cave in on itself. Brick and debris flew everywhere. And just before the remainder of the ship went up in flames a lone figure astride a black and fire red motorcycle ascended from the burning space-racer and soared through the air. The bike landed on the ground with a screech of its tires before the rider got off and stood unsteadily.

"Rotten stink-fish Plutarkians," she snarled weakly. "As if I was going down without a fight."

The rider stood shakily and put a hand on her head as the world began to spin. She wore fitted racing gear made out of a premium alien fiber that was visually similar to leather but could protect against the unique environment of deep space racing. The suit was entirely black with two molten red streaks that curved along either side of her body, twisting up from the base of each knee and running further up the outer side of both thighs in a snakelike pattern. The decorative design continued up the underside of each arm and ended in a sharp twisting shape on both wrists. There was a laser gun strapped in a holster high on one thigh and sleek knee-high black boots matched a pair of fitted dark gloves. The mouse-shaped helmet was black and held a similar red pattern to the suit.

"Dammit," she rasped, feeling her body collapse to the ground feebly under her feet. She peered helplessly through the dark-tinted visor on her helmet to the silver canister secured on the end of her bike.

"Protect it," she commanded weakly. The bike beeped in response and the rider managed a wan grin before her eyes fell shut and darkness enfolded around her.

Limburger emerged out of a pile of rubble, his purple business attire covered in dirt from head to toe. Angrily, he grabbed the unconscious doctor and slapped him with the back of his stubby hand.

"YOU MALEVOLENT MISFIT!" he shouted, beginning to shake the stirring man by the collar. "You've FAILED. AGAIN. Now GET IN THERE and find me that pillar or I will have you transported to one of the vilest, the most disgusting waterholes in the swamps of Plutark!"

Karbunkle squirmed in the fish-face's grasp, nearly passing out from the odor of his breath before glancing uncertainly at the ship's wreckage folding in on itself. "Surely your High Cheesiness can't possibly mean—!"

"GET IN THERE RIGHT NOW!"

The doctor scampered away without further hesitation while Limburger growled and managed to reach a telephone on the far side of the room. "Goons! Get out there and rid me of those wretched rock 'n roll rodents when they show up! Do not have them interfere!" The Plutarkian, anticipating the arrival of the Biker Mice after such an explosion, slammed the phone down on its hook and dodged a mass of falling debris with a curse.

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><p>"Well, lookie here," Throttle drawled, eyeing the horde of goons surrounding the lower perimeter of Limburger Tower. "Seems like ol' stink-face was expecting us, bros."<p>

"Now we know he's up to no good," Modo smirked as he kicked the speed up another notch. "Woo! Let's show these lousy lugnuts—!"

"—just how to throw a real party!" Vinnie concluded with a howl. And with that the mice blew holes through several dune buggies and tore through the scene, guns blazing, Vinnie's maniacal laughter echoing through the air.

"Duh, it's dem biker bunnies! Get dem youse goons!" Greasepit shouted. An angry mob surged forward and Modo chuckled a deep belly laugh.

"Three of us, sixty of them." Grinning, the grey-furred moused used his bionic fist to pummel a charging goon in the gut, the force of the blow slamming the man into five others that sent them flying through the air in a screaming frenzy. "I really like those odds."

The mice roared their engines and spread out, making short work of Limburger's lackeys. The streets filled with sounds of tires screeching, rockets blasting, indignant grunts and yells and the exuberantly insane laughter from a particular white-furred mouse as bodies flung about like rag dolls. Shaking, Greasepit coward underneath his Grunge-Mobile which had been blown upside down in the uproar.

"Mr. Limburger ain't gonna like this," he groaned, tears welling up in his beady eyes. Out of nowhere a black chrome bike roared his way and he let loose a wail as a tanned fist grabbed him by the neck.

"Alright, you grease buggy. Talk." Throttle lifted the henchman clear off the ground and shook him for good measure. "Where's that fat-fish boss of yours? What's he been up too all these weeks?"

Greasepit flailed about in terror, bawling as the nuke knucks began to glow around the mouse's fist. "YAAHH! I dunno, I dunno! Puease don't hurts me!" Throttle dropped the goon unceremoniously on his hide and grimaced as oil splattered over his leather vest and fur. Vinnie and Modo joined up by his side while the oily stooge sniffled and slinked away.

"Aw man. Now what?" Vinnie puffed, crossing his arms boredly. "What's a mouse gotta do for some entertainment around here!"

"Don't sweat it, bro," Modo grinned and pointed up to the mass of black smoke emerging from an enormous cavity punched into the building's fourth floor. Explosions and laser fire mixed in with Limburger's spineless screams. "Somethin' tells me we just found ourselves front row seats to Fish-Bait's latest show!"

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><p>Inside the collapsing cargo hold Lawrence Limburger noticed a silver gleam a little ways from the remains of the miniature space-racer. On closer inspection the chubby Plutarkian was able to make out the source of the reflective light amidst the smoke; a silver canister that was attached to a sleek black and red motorcycle. The vehicle appeared to be guarding a fallen body at its side.<p>

The Conquistador grinned broadly. "KARBUNKLE! Get out of that wreckage and get out here!"

"Gladly, your Fulsome Fragrantness!" The mad scientist climbed out of the burning vessel and trotted toward the big stink fish. The Plutarkian put an arm around the puny man's shoulder.

"It seems we have a bit of a development, my dear doctor." Limburger gesture toward the bike and its fallen comrade. "Meet the carrier. That flotsam female has been foiling me for weeks. In that canister contains the means I need to carry out my plans for Chicago. Get it and dispose of that bothersome furball! Post-haste!"

"Right away, your Cream Cheesiness." Karbunkle grimaced; this sort of dirty work was not in his job description. The doctor, however, wasn't able to ponder over the thought for very long. With a roar of its engine the bike sprung to life and charged forward, kicking up dust and dirt under its wheels.

"Get it! Get that bike!" Limburger shouted angrily. When laser cannons popped out the side of the motorcycle and it began shooting at them, the duo shrieked in terror, dodging the bike as it attempted to run them down.

"What the—?" Throttle observed the scene of destruction playing out before him and fought the urge to laugh out loud. Instead, he removed his field specs and rubbed his eyes irritably. "You were right, big fella. This seems like quite the show. Shoulda bought tickets."

Vinnie nearly fell over laughing. "Oh man! Looks like the head honcho has his hands full! I wonder if they'll be an encore." Having heard the commotion below the mice had entered the scene in time to witness the unknown bike's retaliation.

Modo surveyed the vehicle closely. "Yo, bros. Who's bike is that?" He frowned, he was certain he knew that bike. It had undergone tremendous modifications but it could only belong to one person. Quickly he scanned the area, feeling his heart race when he spotted a body resting lifelessly a little ways from a burning space-racer. _It can't be_, he thought, feeling his body react before his mind as he dashed toward the figure on his bike.

"Blast! It's those repulsive rodents!" Limburger shrieked. The fat Plutarkian was hiding behind a pile of debris, shielding himself from the laser beams shooting his way. When it ceased he glared at the doctor; the man was running about wildly in the open, arms flailing in fear as the Martian bike launched a pair of missiles in his direction. "Karbunkle, I still want that canister! Get it before those meddlesome mice decide to interfere!"

Throttle frowned; there was black smoke everywhere and it was coming from what appeared to be the wreckage of a miniature spaceship. Not to mention an unknown Martian bike was in the process of wreaking havoc inside Limburger Tower. "What's that rancid cheese breath up to?" he murmured under his breath, watching as Modo gently examined the injured rider. Just as the tanned mouse was about to go over and demand answers from Limburger himself something even more unexpected occurred. Another explosion resonated from the fire that was burning the ship to ash. Simultaneously, the bike had fired a laser blast at the doctor who'd narrowly managed to dodge the beam in sheer terror. The laser flew into the blast and triggered another, much larger, outburst of flames. The detonation knocked the scientist off his feet but hit the bike dead-on.

"Oh man," Throttle groaned, using his arm to instinctively shield his face from the force of another explosion. Fire spread throughout the cargo hold as more walls caved in. He eyed the injured rider in the grey mouse's arms and knew they needed to get her out of there. "Modo! We're outta here! Vinnie, grab the bike!"

"AA-HA-HA-AOOOOW! Already gone!" Vinnie howled excitedly. By the time he approached the fallen motorcycle he noticed Limburger sleeking away into a secrete elevator with Karbunkle in tow.

"So long, you bothersome fur-brains!" The Plutarkian sang jeeringly, stroking a silver canister in his hands. "Lets hope this meeting shall be our last!"

Vinnie gritted his teeth as the elevator door slammed shut. "That stinkin' cheeseball is getting away!"

"Relax, bro." Modo rode up next to the white mouse. The mystery rider was draped over his lap, his real arm hugging her upper body to his chest protectively. "The tower is about to come down anyway."

"Heeey...!" Vinnie eyed the female biker with an appreciative gaze and smirked. "Who's the babe, bro?" he leered, shooting a towline to the immobile motorcycle.

Modo looked away silently and the white mouse cocked an eyebrow ridge. "It's Rade."

"Say _what_!"

"We're running out of time, compadres." Throttle gestured to the makeshift exit impatiently. "We need to get her out of here. This place is about to blow."

"Well, I do always like to leave in a blaze of glory," Vinnie jibed, revving his bike. All three mice roared through the giant hole in the wall just as one final explosion demolished the entire cargo hold. The blast was enormous and they were caught in the echo of smoke, debris and fire before their bikes hit the ground.

"Ouch!" Vinnie grabbed his tail and blew out the flame on the end of it. "I already know I'm hot stuff but this is just taking it to a new level!"

Throttle groaned and shook his head to clear his vision. His ears were ringing. "That was close. Everyone in one pi—" The mouse didn't finish the word at the sight of his fallen comrade. Lil' Hoss was heavily damaged, her front tire spinning in the air, and Modo's unconscious body was laying next to her, protectively hunched over the female biker that they now realized was Rade.

"Oh man," Throttled sighed, riding over to Modo and draping his motionless body over his shoulder. He shot a towline to Lil' Hoss as Vinnie picked up Rade with a grim expression.

"Garage?" Vinnie asked.

"Yeah, Charley-girl is probably back there by now." Throttle kicked his bike into gear. "We'll need her help to patch these two up."

"You know, bro," the white mouse groused. "After all that I'm a little miffed that the tower is still standing." Vinnie paused for a moment and then chuckled wickedly, shooting one of his rear rockets up at the building. The tower, from its gables to its foundation, swayed dangerously on its hinges.

Throttle snorted. "That's cheating, Vincent." The leader did his best to hide his amusement as he tore down the street with Lil' Hoss in tow. The younger biker was right behind him, the black and red motorcycle still fastened on his grappling line.

"Maybe. But it did make me feel better."

Back at Limburger Tower, the building finally gave out and collapsed in on itself. The Plutarkian gave a long defeated wail that could be heard far down the city streets.

Throttled grinned under his helmet. Perhaps the kid was onto something. Even though there were still too many unanswered questions and one of his bros was injured, hearing that fat flounder's wail as the tower came crashing down did make him feel a little better.

**TBC**

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><p>Afterword: This is my first fanfiction in the BMFM universe. I was a big fan of the show in the 90s and recently got back into it for the nostalgia. I also like Modo and I thought it'd be nice to see him with someone he regards as special. Feedback would be great. Hope you enjoy.<p> 


	2. Chapter 2

Nope, I don't make money from this story nor do I own the Biker Mice from Mars. But Rade is my original character and belongs to yours truly. Also, I'd like to give a big thank you to everyone who left feedback. Reviews are encouraging and I hope you all enjoy this chapter.

Summary: Limburger takes his usual schemes to dig up Chicago one step further. Can the mice put a stop to him when an old friend becomes caught in the midst? Modo/other

Story by Icewind

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><p><strong>A Scent, A Memory, A Far Distant...Mouse<strong>

_Part Two_

"Sweetheart! I'm home!" Vinnie sang cheerfully. The auburn-haired mechanic rolled her eyes at the sound of the familiar voice ringing through the garage. She descended the staircase to the ground floor and gasped at the scene that met her there.

All there bikes were damaged and two had been carried in via their grappling lines, but the sight of the tanned mouse carrying Modo's limp body over one shoulder made her eyes grow wide in panic. "Throttle, get him on the couch," she exclaimed while running over to a cabinet to grab a first aid kit. "Geez, just another day at the office for you guys."

"Better believe it," Vinnie replied, walking over to the sofa with the unconscious female rider in his arms. Throttle propped up a set off pillows and set Modo on the couch just as Charley came over with bandages and supplies.

"What on earth happened out there?" she asked, looking over the grey mouse for injuries before casting a glance at the rider in Vinnie's arms. "Friend of yours? Is she okay?"

"Modo looked over her earlier. She'll be fine." Throttle frowned and clenched his fist in frustration. "We got caught in an explosion. There was wreckage from a burning spaceship sitting in Limburger's cargo hold. We found her there with her bike—"

"—that was whipping some serious tail, if I may add." Vinnie interjected proudly. "Gotta love Martian bikes. Best in the galaxy."

Charley noticed bruising in an area low on Modo's rib cage and realized that it was fractured. She grabbed a two-inch strip of tape from the kit and had Throttle slightly lift the unconscious mouse enough for her to remove the chest plate and wrap the bandage around his midsection. "Martian?"

Vinnie gently removed the mouse-shaped helmet from the rider's head and tossed it to the floor. Long, midnight black hair fell over his arms and he whistled underneath his breath. "Well, light my fire. It really is Rade."

"What?" Startled, Charley glanced at the white mouse before taking in the sight of the stirring female he held. The black mouse groaned softly as her eyes fluttered open.

"...that greedy Plutarkian pile of puke..." came her weak snarl as she lifted a hand to hold her head. When her vision cleared and she realized she was being held she looked up into a familiar face with wide eyes.

The young freedom fighter chuckled lightly. "You're just as feisty as ever, sweetheart."

"Vinnie?" The dark-furred rider stared as the white mouse gently set her down to stand on her own. Disoriented, she took in her surroundings with a cautious eye. "I must've hit my head hard...last I heard you guys were prisoners of the Plutarkians..." When she caught sight of the unconscious mouse on the sofa her heart stopped in her chest.

"He'll be fine," Charley volunteered, noting the way the mouse sank to her knees beside the couch. The expression on her face held a mixture of emotions before her hand reached up to stroke the side of his face.

"How...?" Rade faltered and then shook her head in disbelief. "What's going on here!"

"Gee, it's good to see you too, doll face." Vinnie huffed and crossed his arms over his chest. The mouse was gorgeous and even though her less than heart-warming reaction to him did yank his ego a bit, he was only slightly bothered since he did consider her a friend. Back in his racing days before the war when he had a particular racing partner who was just as insane as he was about the sport.

Rade relented and gave the young mouse a wistful smile. "I'm in shock, Vin. I can't believe..." She went over to him and gave him a hug. "Glad to see you're still in one piece."

Vinnie gave a genuine smile, one that quickly turned sly as he wrapped one arm around her waist. "That's more like it," he leered, and then winced when her fist connected with his arm.

"You're looking well, Throttle," she said, walking over to the tanned mouse and giving him a hug. "Mind tellin' me just what's going on?"

Throttle chuckled. "I was about to ask you the same thing. Maybe we should swap stories to clear things up." He shot a glance to the green-eyed mechanic storing the rest of the bandages back in the med kit. "This is our friend, Charley. She's repaired our bikes and helped us out too many times to count ever since our ship crashed on Earth."

The human woman grinned as the black mouse knelt down beside her and took both hands in hers in a friendly shake. "Any friend of these three macho mice is a friend of mine. I'm Rade," she said.

Charley decided she liked her. There was something warm and compassionate under the strong exterior that she found endearing. Physically, the black mouse was a little more exotic-looking than any of the other mice she's met. The silken jet-black hair fell all the way down over her thighs, pinned loosely with a rubber clip at the middle of her back, and there was a thick streak of silver white strands hanging in the front. Her fur was several shades lighter than her hair and she wore identical hoop earrings as Modo in her left ear. Charley also noticed she adorned dark leather-like racing gear with a red patterned streak.

"What happened...?" Rade spoke under her breath as she twined her hand with metal fingers. "How did I get here?"

Throttle leaned against the large door frame behind the couch and casually folded his arms over each other. "We brought you here. You were unconscious back at Limburger Tower."

"Yeah. And your space-racer is as good as scrap heap by now." Vinnie sat on the arm of the sofa. "But when we got there your bike had been kicking some serious—"

"The canister!" Immediately, the dark-furred mouse sprang up and dashed through the doorway, nearly knocking Throttle over on his feet.

"What canister?" The leader frowned and pushed his shades up on his nose, watching as she examined her bike with apprehension.

Vinnie snapped his fingers in realization. "Wait. She probably means the one that scuzzy cheeseball was carrying when he escaped."

"What!" Rade came back into the room and walked right up to the white mouse, poking a finger at his chest between his bandoliers. "You wanna run that by me again? You're tellin' me that Limburger has that canister in his grubby mits?"

"Sweetheart," Vinnie couldn't stop the slow smile from spreading over his face. "Anyone ever tell ya that you look real cute when you're vexed?"

Charley rolled her eyes as she stood up and walked over to the female mouse. "My guess is that Limburger will be preoccupied getting his tower rebuilt over the next couple of days. What's in the canister?"

"And how do you know about that fat fish stick, anyway?" Throttle added curiously.

Rade crossed her arms under her chest. "Well, I may as well start from the beginning for this to make sense." She sighed and cast her gaze downward as she gathered her thoughts. "Olympus Rock is colonized by a diverse group of people from around the galaxy. I was surprised to have met some of the best racers I've ever had the pleasure to race against." There was a touch of a smile on her face and a lively gleam in her eye on the topic of space racing. "The technology that is out there is on another level. I had my bike upgraded and got a hold of my own space-racer. And many of the riders I met were on another level. It's entirely different than our home quadrant of space."

Vinnie shrugged nonchalantly and waved a dismissive hand. "C'mon, babe. I've already been out there. And there ain't anyone that's a match for the undisputed Motocross Champ of the Galaxy."

"You haven't changed a bit have you?" The dark-furred mouse shook her head admonishingly, a hint of a smile on her face. "You know, hotshot, some of us race for the thrill and don't always see much of a challenge in entering those competitions let alone feel the need to carry a title like that as a badge of honour."

A low chuckle came from the couch. "Sounds like someone has been having a good time out there." The three of them turned toward the voice and noticed Modo casually sitting on the sofa, metal arm behind his head and an amused grin on his face. "Can't say that I'm surprised, though."

* * *

><p>"Blast!" Lawrence Limburger emerged from the ruins of his tower, fairly unscathed. "Those hog-riding hamsters have interfered for the last time!"<p>

Karbunkle coughed as he climbed his way out of a pile of rubble. He took a moment to straighten himself before pulling out a silver canister. "Look at it this way, my Prime Putridness. After all these weeks at least you were finally able to get a hold of the pillar."

A fiendish sneer spread over the Plutarkian's face as he pushed aside the mad scientist and took hold of the canister. "Why, I do believe you're right, my dear doctor." Cautiously, Limburger unwound the lid and removed the contents; a cylindrical-shaped metal object that swiftly expanded into a miniature pyramid in his stubby hands. Each triangular face had an incised design or some form of alien cuneiform inscription.

"Excellent," Limburger sneered. "With this instrument not only will I be able to commence the complete plundering of the Windy City and its surrounding municipality, but seek out the annihilation of those wretched _weasels _on wheels! Those accursed Biker Mice!"

Satisfied, the Plutarkian chuckled darkly, then threw his head back and erupted into sinister laughter.

"Pardon me, your Cheddar Cheesiness."

"What!" Limburger spun around and glared at the doctor.

Karbunkle examined the alien craft with a slight frown. "I'm unfamiliar with this technology. Before we can put it to use I'll need one of the sister labs to inspect it further until the main tower is rebuilt."

The big fish gave an irritable sigh. "Do your worst, doctor." He turned his back to his subordinate and stared up at the sky from the wreckage of his tower. "In the meantime I will have the main skyscraper restored along with our primary resources. Hopefully, it'll remain standing before those machismo motivated mice are able to intervene."

* * *

><p>Modo felt like the wind had been knocked right out of him when a body flung against his chest, laughing, and a familiar pair of arms wrapped around his neck. "Easy there," he chuckled, immediately wincing with the strain the act exerted on his insides. "I've seen better days. Geez, what hit me?"<p>

"Y'mean other than her? Try a side order of Limburger's tower," Vinnie chortled.

Rade pulled back slightly with a sheepish grin, arms still around the grey mouse. "I didn't mean...it's just..." Crimson eyes locked on one another and suddenly the others faded out of the room, leaving just the two of them. Modo felt his throat run dry as soft fingers gently ran down the side of his face and over his shoulder blade in a tender caress.

"...been so long," he finished in a murmur. Caught in her stare he took in the beautiful features, the breathtaking smile...the range of emotion in her gaze as a hand brushed the side of his eyepatch. Abruptly, he averted his gaze, a little put off by the tiny wave of self-consciousness that washed over him. But she tilted his head to meet her eyes once again and the strength of what he saw in the mesmerizing stare brought warmth to his heart.

A slight coughing noise broke the two of them out of the spell. Modo blinked and the others were suddenly back in the room and he was back inside the Last Chance Garage.

Throttle cleared his throat again with a tiny grin. "Sorry you two. But there's still too many pieces missing in the puzzle."

Vinnie gave a light laugh. "Yeah, lover-lips. The lady was in the middle of a story."

Charley gave both mice an admonishing look, noting the slight blush of frustration on the dark-furred mouse as she disentangled herself from the warm embrace.

"Um, right," Modo said in a slightly annoyed tone. Couldn't his bros cut him a break? It had been at least four years since he'd last seen her after all.

Rade allowed her body to lean back into the sofa as she stared up at the ceiling. "Many of the refugees were content to stay on the asteroid and start new lives. Even after we got word about the Plutarkian conquest and the state of the planet. But I had no intention to just sit around and do nothing let alone forget about the people I left behind." She paused and lowered her gaze to her hands with a slight frown. "One day while racing through the main belt I ran into the Keheiti—"

"Whoa, that's weird," Vinnie interjected. "I never ran into any of them before. I thought their planet was one of the first to have been strip mined by those smelly fin heads."

Rade shrugged. "A few thousand of them survived. Ever since the conquest they isolated themselves and relocated to one of the southern galaxies. It's almost impossible to find their new whereabouts. By chance I bumped into one of their science vessels...it was under attack by a Plutarkian Destroyer ship." The mouse felt her fists clench in her lap at the memory. "After what those no good planet-plundering codfish did to Mars and countless of other races, how could I not help them out? Between our two ships we were able to chase away the Destroyer. Later, I found out the ship was actually after a technology on the vessel called a pillar—"

"Wait a sec," Throttle interrupted, reaching under his field specs to rub his eyes. "You're saying that these actually exist? From what I heard it was nothing more than a myth."

"Guys?" Charley casually walked into the kitchen to grab a pack of root beer, tossing over her shoulder, "This may go smoother without all the interruptions. Just relax and let her tell her story."

Modo crossed his arms silently and stared at the black mouse beside him, noting the apprehension on her features. Immediately, he knew there was something she was considering to hide from them and the notion brought a frown to his face. Trust wasn't the issue; he knew she trusted them all with her life as he did her. Which meant if she was considering to keep something from them it was to not reveal anything which was quote unquote unnecessary that she knew would get their tails in a knot. Particularly his.

"Rade..." Modo noticed her fists were clenched up in little balls on her lap and took one of them in his real hand. "You do realize I won't let you hide anything, right?" She looked at him with startled eyes and he gave her a reassuring smile. "I know it's been awhile but whatever it is, you can tell us. You can tell me anything."

Encouraged, the female racer squeezed his hand and returned his smile. "I'll keep that in mind, handsome." She kept his hand in hers as she continued the story. "And no, it's not a myth. The technology belongs to the Keheiti. Ever since the Plutarkians stole their planet's natural resources they've been enhancing their pillars...conducting experiments...which was why one of their science vessels was in the region of space I found it in."

Charley, having heard everything through the open kitchen door, came back into the room with a mini pack of cold root beer in hand. She handed one to each mouse and kept a can for herself. "Why would the Plutarkians want these pillars? What do they do?"

Throttle popped the lid off his root beer and took a quick swig. "Well, if the stories are right, they're supposed to be able to restore natural resources to ruined land." The tan-furred mouse eyed the racer curiously. "Enough of them may even be able to restore an entire planet to its natural state."

Rade nodded slowly, catching his gaze. "Bingo."

"Sweetheart..." Vinnie chugged down the last drops of his root beer and grinned excitedly. "Are you saying what I think you're saying?"

"Given that mind of yours? Who knows," Rade quipped with a shrug. "But something like that would be of great value. Especially to those who had their planet torn up by the Plutarkians. At the same time those reekin' slime fish want to put it to use for their own gain." She paused, staring at the hand that was intwined with warm grey fingers. "On the science vessel the researchers gave me a prototype...said it was a token of their thanks after helping them out, especially in light of what happened to Mars—"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. Hang on." Throttle stared at the young mouse in disbelief. "You're seriously trying to tell me that you have one of those things?"

"Don't get too excited. One isn't enough to restore an entire planet. Although it may give it a good head start." Rade shot a glance at Modo. The grey mouse had always been able to read her better than anyone and she wondered if she'd be able to tell them enough without revealing too much. "That Plutarkian ship must've breached our communication because after the Keheiti and I parted ways they came after my space-racer. There was only one thing they could've wanted." Rade cast her gaze downward again. "I lost them that day, there was no way they could've matched my speed in space, but I had several encounters with them over time. They started calling me 'the carrier'. Eventually I learned that these slimeballs were actually lackeys for some stink fish on Earth named Limburger who wanted the prototype before Plutark's higher ups got wind of what was going on."

Modo frowned, there was definitely something his rider was leaving out. "Why didn't you contact anyone for help?"

The black mouse gave an exasperated sigh. "It's not like I didn't try. My ship was already banged up after the initial fight—it was just my space-racer against a Destroyer. A lot went down, including communication. And those scaly fish heads kept chasing me for weeks. I had a choice: either go back to Olympus Rock and invite trouble to follow me, or get this thing to Mars ASAP."

"Alone?" Modo shook his head, trying to keep the edge out of his voice. "You could've been fish bait!"

"I'm a grown mouse," Rade shot back, a hint of irritation in her tone. "I can take care of myself!"

Charley walked behind the couch and put a calming hand on the mouse's shoulder, allowing her to take a breath and relax. "So where is this thing now?"

Rade pursed her lips. "On my way to Mars my ship was pulled down to Earth as it passed over the planet. I thought I was able to shake off those greedy groupers days ago until Limburger actually hauled my space-racer through orbit using some kind of gravitational ray. That fat fish certainly has an unbounded ambition and lust for power." She ran a hand through her hair and grinned. "I didn't go down easy, though. Decided to crash right into his little foray." Again, she leaned into the couch and stared up at the ceiling. "From what I gather he wants to exploit the technology for his own cause. He has a scientist and it only takes a sophisticated hack for something like that to be used either way: restore ruined land or harness the natural energy already on a planet."

Throttle snorted. "Well, it's not exactly hard to guess what that stinkin' cheese dip wants to do. Getting his slimy fins on something that is capable of stealing more planetary resources than he and his goons could possibly do on their own would earn him brownie points with the Plutarkian council." He shot an amused glance to the dark-furred mouse. "The pillar is in the canister, isn't it?"

"Then we're just gonna have to get it back." Vinnie punched a hand in his fist and smirked. "Biker Mice style!"

Modo sighed perturbedly. "My bike's a mess, bros. I won't be ridin' anywhere until I get her fixed up."

"Mine too. And besides," Rade avoided his gaze as she spoke. "Limburger won't be able to use the device for now. We have some time."

Again, the grey-furred mouse had the distinct feeling that she was hiding something he needed to know. Modo gave her an odd look but decided not to press the issue. If they really did have time then he'd wait for her to tell him on her own.

* * *

><p>"Bio-engineered?" Lawrence Limburger stood by the window, overlooking the reconstruction of his main tower from the office of one of his sister buildings. "Are you certain?"<p>

"Yes, my Supreme Sleaziness." Karbunkle's voice rang through the intercom on Limburger's desk. "At least partly. We may need that female furball to be able to access its power."

"Very well." The fat fish hit a button on the intercom and pressed another. "Greasepit, get up here!"

Moments later the oily oaf emerged from a floor lift installed within the office. "Yeah, youse bellowed, boss?"

"My dear half-brained henchman, I have a task for you." The Plutarkian put an arm around his dim-witted lackey and grinned. "Quite simple really. I require the capture of the female rider that those worthless wombats currently have in their care. See to it that you bring her back here unharmed."

Greasepit scratched his bald head in confusion. "Duh, youse means that red-headed dame, boss?"

"No, you piteous petroleum-paste poltroon!" Limburger shouted, knocking the goon upside the head. "Not that meddlesome mechanic! The female _mouse_ that escaped certain destruction. After I have made the necessary preparations and give you the word, I want you to bring me that space racing rodent. And do it discreetly! I prefer not to have those furry flea factories chasing you back here and infesting yet another one of my buildings!"

"But boss! Dem mousies are gonna hunt me down as soon as I nab dat mouse."

"You incompetent imbecile THEN TAKE CARE OF THEM! You're supposed to be my main mouse mauler!"

"But boss—"

"Listen to me, you moronic miscreant," Limburger seethed. "I don't care how you do it. Just GET THE JOB DONE and fetch me that mouse! Am I making myself abundantly clear!"

"Duh, sure thing, boss." Greasepit conceded, hoping to spare further wrath from his higher up. "Anything youse say."

* * *

><p>"There you go, babe." Vinnie patted the crankcase on his bike. "Good as new. And just as beautiful."<p>

Charley sauntered over to the white mouse with a mischievous grin. "Why thank you, Vinnie," she teased, trailing her forefinger under his chin. The gesture brought an unexpected blush to his face as she lifted his gaze to her eyes before playfully moving her hand away to pat the handlebars on his bike. "I do fabulous work, if I say so myself."

"Yep, the best," Throttle agreed, locking his bike cannons back into place.

"I'll second that," Rade added, removing the air pump from one of her tire valve stems. Crimson eyes roamed over her bike and admired the mechanic's handy work. "Quite impressive. I bet these guys would be lost without a wrench jockey like you."

"Yeah, no kiddin'," Modo murmured, metal fingers tightening the axle bolt on his front wheel. Charley came over to him and examined his bike.

"I repaired most of the damage but you're gonna need a new subframe." The mechanic folded her arms under her chest. "Martian bikes are unique and I'd feel better just building one for you using alloys from your old spaceship."

The grey mouse gave her a warm smile. "Thanks, Charley-ma'am. I appreciate that."

"Vinnie and I can take you back to the scoreboard, Charley," Throttle offered, mounting his bike. "We were just heading back there anyway."

"Yeah, gotta grab the new James Bomb movie I bought." Vinnie put on his helmet and grinned as the mechanic climbed on his bike behind him. "We were gonna head back here to the garage and have a marathon night!"

"Whoopee," Charley remarked with fake enthusiasm, shaking her head with an amused grin. "As if you guys hadn't seen all the movies already!"

"Sweetheart!" Vinnie put a hand over his heart in mock hurt before tossing a helmet to her. "Aw, c'monnn! You know you love 'em as much as we do. It'll be fun!"

"Yeah, I could use a good James Bomb flick to cheer me up." Modo ran his hand over the damage on Lil' Hoss with a frown. Sighing, he scooted behind the bike and began to manually remove the wobbly rear tire. "Guess I'll see what I can do here while you guys are gone."

Rade sat sideways on her bike with her boots crossed at the ankles and eyed the grey mouse thoughtfully. The chest plate he normally wore was gone, replaced by broad white bandage strips that were still wrapped around his midsection. "You're not looking so hot, hot stuff."

"Huh?" Modo looked up and was a little taken back by the penetrating gaze of the dark-furred rider. Without breaking her stare she crossed a leg over the other, swinging the top one in a slow pendulum-like motion. The leather-like pants she wore hugged her legs and curves quite nicely and the jacket was gone, discarded hours ago when they began repairs on their damaged bikes. A fitted white sleeveless tank shirt hugged her upper body, just barely revealing the top of her breasts and a thin gold neckless around her slender neck. As his eye roamed over her he fought against the instinct to go over there and embrace the mouse. She was just as he remembered her and he couldn't take his gaze away.

Rade looked away, her eyes moving to her boots uncertainly. At this point she wasn't sure how he felt about her and she wanted some time alone with him. Suddenly, she pushed the thought aside as another took its place and a slow, almost impish, smile curved her mouth. She got up and strolled toward him with a subtle sway of her hips. "Yeah, you definitely need something," she said flirtatiously. "And I have just the remedy."

Modo swallowed hard. "Um..." he fought back a blush as the dark-furred beauty approached him. "And what might that be?" he blurted without really thinking.

The black mouse grinned even more as she stood in front of him, swinging her tail around behind him to a spot on his own furry appendage that made him gasp. "Laughter," she said innocently, and without further ado proceeded to tickle his tail with her own, earning howls of laughter from the tall mouse.

Modo clutched his sides and gasped. "Rade, stop!" he laughed, a slight mixture of pain in his voice. He fell back to the ground in uncontrolled hysterics, trying desperately to get his tail out of the way. But his attempts were fruitless; the relentless black tail merely found and exploited his other ticklish points that only she was aware he had.

Rade stood above him calmly and smirked. "Sorry, big guy," she teased, leaning forward slightly, hands on her hips. "But laughter really is the best remedy for broken ribs. Prevents secretions from pooling into the lung."

Vinnie busted out laughing at the sight. "No way! Modo is actually _ticklish_!" The white mouse nearly fell off his bike cackling and could hear the muffled chortles of the tanned leader by his side. Charley did her best to repress her giggles.

"Bros! This ain't f-f-funny!" The grey-furred mouse had tears in his eye from the force of his laughter. Rade continued to torment him and a sharp pain rolled up his sides as he glared at them. "Oh mama, this actually _hurts_!"

"Yeah, but she has a point, big fella," Throttle snickered, revving his engine. "You don't want to get pneumonia or worse. We'll leave you in her capable hands."

"WHAT!"

"Tootles," Vinnie saluted, laughing at the mortified look on Modo's face. The mouse was tough and the idea of him having a hard time with a tickle attack made him grin from ear to ear. Amused, the young biker sped out of the garage along side Throttle with Charley right behind him, shouting over his shoulder, "Try not to bust a gut!"

Modo stared wide-eyed in disbelief. _No way_, he thought. There was no way his bros would so cruel. _They didn't seriously just LEAVE me here at the mercy of..._ before he could even complete the thought a familiar black tail began to abuse a ticklish spot behind his ear that had him roaring with laughter much louder than before.

Rade folded her arms under her chest, his hearty guffaws bringing a genuine smile to her face. It's been a long time since she's heard him laugh and she decided in that moment that not only did he need it but the jovial sound was worth any hardships she would face down the road.

Particularly one involving a silver canister.

**TBC**

* * *

><p>Afterword: Always thought it'd be funny if he were ticklish *smiles* Also, it's coughing that helps a broken rib but I heard laughing works as well? Anyway, stay tuned and I hope you enjoy. Might be a love scene in the next chapter.<p> 


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